The Incentive List Ch. 08bywabbit_season©
September 3rd, 1999
James, as a general rule, hated wedding receptions. Sure, this was technically a 'pre-ceremony party': a conciliatory get-together to appease the gathered masses who would be missing out on the happy couple's sensibly private and low-key nuptials in the Caribbean. But it still comprised the disparate and potentially volatile mixture of extended family, friends and colleagues, many of whom had never met, and would probably grow to despise each other after a moment's conversation. If he had been presented with an opportunity not to attend, he would have gladly taken it.
Thank God he had Sarah at his side - if all else failed he could at least sequester himself away for a non-inclusive tête-à-tête with his significant other.
What had made the anticipation of this night particularly stressful for James was the fact that this was the first time that his extended family, outside of his parents and older sister, would meet Sarah. Despite looking stunning in her sparkly dress and appearing significantly younger than her actual age, he was still nervous that she would be labelled a cradle-snatcher, or worse.
As it turned out, she charmed the pants off of everyone she encountered - James' biggest struggle was containing her filthy innuendo when engaging with the more senior members of James' clan.
"So, you used to be James' French teacher?"
"Yes I was. He had a wonderful tongue... For language I mean..."
That his dear old mum had taken it upon herself to inform almost every family member the nature of how they had met was a not inconsiderable bone of contention between mother and son. But he let it slide; Sarah seemed to beam with pride whenever anyone asked her to confirm the circumstances in which they met.
The evening was going fairly well up until the point that Sarah clocked a guest that made her visibly wince.
"Who's that," asked James, noticing Sarah's disdain.
"George Pickford," she muttered through gritted teeth. "Went out with him years and years ago. Bastard broke my heart."
"What's he doing here?"
"He's Silvia's plus one - he started going out with her after he dumped me."
"I don't know why you invited her..."
"She's my cousin, James. I couldn't really freeze her out of my own wedding reception."
"I thought the whole idea if tying the knot abroad was that we didn't have to deal with bullshit like this?"
Sarah smiled and pecked him on the cheek.
"If we hadn't thrown this party, your family would have hated me even more than they do already."
"They don't hate you. They just don't know you very well."
Sarah leaned in and whispered into James' ear, but not before giving it a playful bite.
"Just as well!"
- - - - - - - - - - - -
James spent much of the night making polite small talk with the assembled guests. When he finally found himself in a one-on-one with George, it took every ounce of his self-restraint to keep his and Sarah's escapades to himself; especially when his line of questioning became slightly smug and derogatory.
"So, you and Sarah, eh?" came the rather patronising conversation starter. "I must admit, I didn't think she'd have it in her. Hooking up with someone so young, I mean."
"Oh?" James innocently replied. "How come?"
"Well, when I was with her she wasn't exactly... open-minded," he slighted.
"Really?" James countered. "I've never known her to be anything other than... Well... Progressive."
George snorted dismissively. Before James had a chance to defend her, his fiancée joined the conversation, prying herself away from one if James' more enthusiastic uncles.
"Well, I see you're both getting acquainted," she said.
Silvia, perhaps in response to an old flame making contact, entered the fray.
"Hi Sarah," she said, pulling away from another family confab. "Having a nice evening?"
"Oh, lovely thanks," came the cheery reply. She looked into George's eyes, almost daring a barb from her tipsy old flame. He gladly obliged.
"I was just saying to your fiancé - I wouldn't have expected you of all people to bag one of your students."
Sarah played dumb.
"Oh really? How come?"
"Well," said George with a rather patronising smirk, "You know..."
Sarah smiled sweetly back while giving James' arm a reassuring squeeze.
"No, I really don't."
Sarah pleaded with her eyes for George to elaborate. When he sheepishly declined, she turned to Silvia to fill her in.
"Actually I do. George always felt I was a bit of a prude when we dated," she said. "Wanted someone a little more adventurous, didn't you dear?"
George held his hands up to express innocence.
"Hey I didn't say anything," he smirked.
"No," Sarah retorted, her face suddenly switching from nonchalant to deathly serious. "But you certainly did at the time."
There was an awkward pause. James studied Silvia's face. He knew full well that if she signalled any discomfort with the way this conversation was developing, Sarah would put her claws away and spare her cousin any embarrassment. Alas, she did the opposite.
"Ooo, I like the fact I'm the adventurous one," she beamed, clutching George's hand. That put James on the offensive.
"So, what's the most adventurous you've both ever been," James genially enquired.
"Beg your pardon?" said George.
"Come on, we're all friends here. I'm curious, what's so adventurous about your amazing sex life."
Silvia rose to the challenge of his sarcasm and adopted a punchable look of smugness.
"Not with your lovely fiancée listening," she whispered, insinuating the salacious nature of their escapades.
"No, go on," Sarah said, the smile returning to her face. "I won't pass out."
Silvia looked to her partner for permission which he proudly gave with yet another award-winningly smug look.
"Well, we've had a few outdoor encounters, shall we say," she said coyly. "Parks and stuff. And I've got a uniform or two back home... haven't I?"
George chortled as Silvia ran a finger up his arm. It was utterly nauseating.
"Does he fuck you in the arse?" Sarah asked sweetly.
The couples' respective jaws dropped.
"Er... Well..." Silvia stuttered, struggling to remain composed. "Once. I mean sometimes. For special occasions. Birthdays and things..."
They clammed up with embarrassment.
"That's fairly adventurous," James agreed, reciprocating Sarah's nods. "I remember the first time I fucked you in the arse Sarah, do you remember?"
"Oh yes, that was just after I set you up with that student to massage. Came all over her tits didn't you, you naughty boy?"
"Hey, you're a fine one to talk," James said, continuing the banter as if they were two breakfast chat show hosts talking about the weather. "How many of my mates ended up cumming over you for that Bukkake party?"
"Ha. Every last one if them."
She leaned in to give an aside to an astonished Silvia.
"Some of them more than once..."
"And we did it in a park too," James offered.
"Yeah, you and the men you hired to kidnap and rape me... Was it really necessary to tie me to that tree?"
Silvia audibly gasped.
"Oh don't worry Silvia," Sarah whispered, "I was absolutely gagging for it."
"And you performed at that strip club. Got a rather pleasant spit roasting if memory serves."
"Yeah, preferred the threesome with Lucy if I'm honest. Nothing like having a girl who knows what they're doing going down on you, eh Silvia?"
James lapped up the look of paralysed shock on their faces.
"Right," said George weakly. "Well. Good for you."
"It really was," James said, patting his rival on the shoulder. "Drink darling?"
"Would love one, darling," responded Sarah, taking her fiancé by the arm and leading him to the bar.
They waited until they were out of earshot before guffawing out loud.
After a vodka each, sharing their hilarity at the expressions of Sarah's ex and her significant other, James took on a rather more serious tone:
"All that stuff you described; our escapades... Are you sure you want to end it all? You won't miss it?"
Sarah put a reassuring hand over James'.
"Honey, I've got up to more mischief in a few years with you than most people manage in a lifetime. And if I do this, it has to mean something. I want us to be exclusive. And faithful. Besides, just because we're not fucking other people, doesn't mean we can't still be a little... What did Silvia say? 'Adventurous'."
Sarah fired him a trademark cheeky smile. James toasted her glass in response.
"Are you alright with it all?" Having sex with only one other woman for the rest of your life?"
James smiled. "I couldn't think of a more wonderful woman to be monogamous with."
"Oh, good answer," Sarah replied, pecking him on the cheek. "But just in case you had anything else to get out of your system, I've laid on a little surprise for you later."
James was genuinely surprised.
"What are you talking about?"
Sarah smirked. "Oh come on, like I was going to let your little arrangement in the park be the last word. I'd have never heard the end of it. No, no... The final treat has to be from me. And it has to be for you. Send you off from your old life with style..."
James was excited, but bewildered.
"What have you got up your sleeve?" he sighed.
"It's your last few days as a single man. Might as well go out with a bang," she teased.
"Stop digging. Lets just say that I didn't just book the one room. I'll be getting an early night while you will be getting a little treat..."
James was intrigued, and incredibly turned on - if Sarah had intended it to crown their exploration of their 'incentive lists' it must be good. But what could it be? James had already ticked off the most notable requests from his list. Sarah knew him too well, and addressed his internal thought process.
"It's nothing you wrote in your list," she said coyly. "Just something I thought you'd like. Consider it my wedding present to you."
She rummaged around in her bag before pulling out a plastic card and pressing it into his hand.
"Room 347. 11:30."
James examined the card key before looking up to be greeted by a mischievous grin.
"Don't be late," she instructed.
- - - - - - - - - -
James was preoccupied for the rest of the night. He went through the motions of chatting to family, dancing with friends, and, of course, flirting with his beautiful fiancée, but his mind was fixated on room 347. He had expected to share a night of passion with Sarah later in the evening, but as the older guests started to leave, and the younger ones got progressively more drunk, the time for his 'treat' approached. What was in store for him?
He stared over at her from across the room, imploring with his eyes for her to drop some kind of hint. Upon noticing him, she merely pointed to her watch with a scolding look. Time to go.
For the past couple of hours he had limited his intake of alcohol so as not to dull whatever sensations he was about to feel, but he still felt a little light headed as he found his way to the hotel's lobby and took a lift to the third floor.
The corridor was empty as he approached the room and in the silence he could feel the blood rushing through his skull. He gave a light rap on the door, waited for a brief second, and then inserted the key card. The room was dark, and so he inserted his card into the power slot, instantly lighting up his surroundings. It was a sizeable room, a huge king-sized bed occupying only a fraction of the floor space. And there, positioned centrally between the bed and a full length mirror on the wall, was a massage table. Other than that, the room appeared empty.
James smiled to himself as he approached the table. On it was a small white cotton towel, an envelope and a hand-written note:
UNDRESS AND LIE FACE DOWN WITH THE TOWEL COVERING YOU. WE'LL BE WITH YOU SHORTLY.
The bottom of the page was signed with three imprints of kisses in three separate shades of lipstick. James inspected the envelope, and upon shaking it over the table, three individual foil-packed condoms fell out. James felt his dick twitch. A six-hand massage appeared to be on the cards; one that would no doubt culminate in a very happy ending.
As he removed his clothes and neatly draped them over a nearby chair, his mind raced regarding the identities of his masseuses. Would they be hand-picked professionals? Would James know any of them? Would Sarah be among them? He cheekily rotated the massage table slightly so that the top end was pointing towards the door. His anticipatory erection made lying on the table a little awkward, but after pushing his stiff cock flat up against his pelvis, he was able to get into the designated position. The small towel provided barely covered him, and he felt the cool breeze from the air-conditioner caress the exposed tops of his buttocks. He lifted his head and rested his chin on his hands, staring at the door in anticipation. Who would come through it?
James was kept waiting for what seemed like half an hour but was in fact only 5 or 10 minutes. In that time his erection had subsided, but when the door finally opened, it returned with a vengeance - at least after James had caught his breath and processed the magnitude of what might be about to happen.
"You've gotta be kidding me," he muttered under his breath as the three women entered, each wrapped tightly in large fluffy white hotel robes.
It wasn't that they were all attractive - which they were - or even that he recognised each of them. It was the fact that those three condoms now represented something greater than he could have ever imagined.
Karen, Lucy and Emma: the 'unfuckables'.
He didn't know how Sarah had arranged this, how she had talked them into it, hell, how she even tracked two of them down, but here they were: his three regrets; the three girls James had wished he had fucked but couldn't, or wouldn't, or wasn't allowed.
They lined up before him looking coy but excitable.
"Comfy?" enquired Karen, her dark eye make-up, slicked back pony tail and bright red lipstick making her look like a sexy extra from a Robert Palmer video.
Of the three, she was perhaps the one that would have required the least persuasion to attend this private party, but James was no less surprised to see her here now. He had last seen her at Sarah's riotous bukkake party during his last days of University. Karen had been the surprise package of the night, inadvertently gate crashing proceedings with James' housemate Helen, but then cheerily stripping off and joining in the group fun without hesitation. James had been struck by her carefree attitude and beautifully-shaped tits, but was only afforded the briefest of fondles before having to attend to his now fiancée. It was at the end of his time in Edinburgh, and he had never met her since. He must have vocalised his regret at not having got to know her any better at least once to Sarah, as she was here now to make up for the missed opportunity.
Predictably, she was the first to shed her heavy robe. It fell to floor with a dull thud, revealing her pale but beautifully toned body and her ample bust contained within a black silky bra that matched her panties.
"God that thing is hot," she sighed as she disappeared into the bathroom.
Lucy eyed her jiggling ass as she bounced away, before turning back to give James a cheeky wink. Now this was truly forbidden fruit. Sarah's proudly gay friend was no stranger to James and his sexual delectations - she had been involved in a threesome with him and Sarah after all. But there had been a very strict rule that night: no fucking. He had rubbed her and sucked her and even cum over her glorious tits, but her sweet, auburn pussy was a no-go area for James' eager erection. But not tonight, it would appear. Her robe was the next to go, her long flame red curls beautifully complimenting the red lace of her balcony bra and matching French knickers.
"James, James, James..." she theatrically sighed. "How does Sarah talk me into these things?"
"Oh I don't know," countered James as Karen rejoined the group, three bottles of oil in her hands. "Something to do with your assistants?"
Lucy smiled knowingly as she and Karen each approached a side of the table, out of James' field of vision. Which just left him to contemplate the almost incomprehensible presence of Emma.
She hadn't changed a huge amount from their encounter all those years ago. Her brown hair was a lot shorter - almost a bob now - and her face was a little thinner, the puppy fat of adolescence now well and truly gone. Of course back then it had been her on the massage table, tricked into letting James explore her oiled body and her massive, gravity-defying breasts, but soon coaxing him into lewd acts and asking him to take her virginity. He didn't though - he couldn't bear the thought of taking her innocence through such manipulative means - but he had always wondered 'what if?'.
"This seems vaguely familiar" she said, the hyperactivity of old replaced with a measured confidence. "Only this time you're on the table," she continued, letting her robe slip off her shoulders. "And I might not take 'no' for an answer."
And with that, she let the whole garment fall, revealing a body just as pneumatic and curvy as James had remembered. Her impossibly round breasts were framed perfectly in a white lace bra, her cleavage a perfect meeting of two globes of smooth tanned flesh. She had remained as trim as she was when she was 18, her white thong showing off her impressively long legs.
She sauntered up to the table with an exaggerated wiggle.
"Head down," she instructed. "Let's loosen you up a little first."
James complied, resting his face over the hole at the head of the table. His view now limited to Emma's dainty feet, he closed his eyes and prepared himself to receive whatever magical treats were sure to be coming his way.
He heard whispering and giggling as the girls secretly conversed. The faintest whiff of alcohol suggested some inhibition-loosening drinks had been consumed prior. The three had obviously got to know each other.
James felt the unctuous coolness of oil being poured on his skin before the recompense of two warming hands on his lower back. They smeared the lubrication around before being joined by another pair, and then finally another pair of oily digits engaged with his shoulders. Such comprehensive contact, despite being of a non-erotic nature, was delicious - knowing these three scantily clad ladies were smoothing his flesh was incredibly stimulating, and he shifted slightly to accommodate the awkwardness of his fully engorged penis.
As he felt the fingers on his shoulders dig gently into his muscles, he opened his eyes to stare at Emma's pretty painted toenails. How had Sarah found her? How had she talked her into this? Was she now aware that their previous encounter had been a set-up? Did she care?
James' analysis if the situation was interrupted by the first segue from the therapeutic to the sensual: one of the hands on his back went south, under the cotton towel, and over his buttocks. After an over-generous distribution of more oil, some firm squeezes sent a frisson of sexual energy through James' body; he felt an uncommon amount of pre-cum escape from the tip of his flattened erection, wetting his stomach.
"Mmm, nice arse," said Karen. Of course it would be Karen.
While she continued her vigorous kneading of James' backside, Lucy whipped off the towel that was now draped over the back of his legs. A click of a bottle lid preceded a squirt of oil which was then followed by a sticky exploration of his thighs. Lucy's fingers stayed purposefully high, dancing around the base of his cheeks and taking deep investigating probes between his legs, caressing his ball sack.